


Sheep's Clothing For My Beta Boy

by magdalyna



Series: Daddy Mine [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Age Difference, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub, Kink Negotiation, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-09
Updated: 2013-01-09
Packaged: 2017-11-24 06:18:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/631367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magdalyna/pseuds/magdalyna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter is tender in the morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sheep's Clothing For My Beta Boy

In the morning when Peter wakes (first of course, the poor boy is still too wrung out) up to find Scott curled, naked against him still. His ass exposed, wonderfully red still, though the welts seem to have gone down.

Peter had inflicted them, but not directly, and he wasn’t angry, so they will heal faster than if he had directly struck the boy, if he had been angry. This is a quirk of an Alpha’s anger, there are parameters.

But Peter would never strike someone in that way in anger, he’s not a monster. So he slowly and carefully props the boy up with pillows, one under his chest and another just under his head so his head is level. He gently slides out of bed then and goes to fetch a wash cloth from the en suite bathroom Scott has.

Melissa had pulled a double at the hospital, so they have time now. He is pleased because he doesn’t want to rush this. He needs to take care of the boy properly. What would be the point in having nice things if you don’t look after them? It would be a travesty.

He cleans the boy as gently as he can, swiping slowly between the boy’s ass cheeks and then folds it to swipe over the red meat of his ass.

The air will cool the hot skin as it dries so he leaves to find an ice pack, a dish towel. The ice pack is in the freezer, big enough for a sore shoulder or a hamstring.

Peter returns then sets the wrapped up pack onto Scott’s ass while he goes to make toast and get some juice for the boy.

He finds whole wheat bread and makes a piece, cuts it into quarters and then schemers some peanut butter onto them precisely. He briefly considers making the boy down a can of V8 but settles for the sweeter lure of apple juice.

He goes back up to Scott’s room and sets the glass and plate down on the nightstand and sees Scott blink at him slowly. 

He removes the covered ice pack and sits on the bed slowly. He briefly touches the supple flesh, draining off a little of the pain, enough so that Scott will be able to sit up, with help of course, to eat. Peter settles behind the boy, moving him to sit in his lap, draped against him. 

He picks up the glass.

“You’re going to sip this and then you can have some toast. Here, come on,” Peter tells him and Scott tilts his mouth up, open and so Peter feeds him like that. 

The toast seems to help and Scott bites at the last bit of crust with his teeth, enveloping Peter’s thumb and index finger with his lips before drawing them back, chewing slowly. 

He sets the plate down, draws an arm across Scott’s torso, resting on his hip as he cards through the boy’s hair, rubbing small circles at his temple.

“You did so well last night, my dear boy. You were gorgeous.” Peter tells him, breathing into his other side. 

Scott makes a noise, curious sounding. His heart is calm, breathing smooth. His back is a loose plane of muscles, no tension to be felt. 

“You never missed a count, not even as you shivered. You were such a good boy. My boy.” Peter says, voice soft and Scott leans in, his ear brushing Peter’s lips. 

Peter wants to lick at the boy’s earlobe, bring it into his mouth and bite. 

“Tell me Scott, will you be a good boy for me, still?” Peter asks. It is well past time.

The boy tenses. 

Peter waits, breath in then out then-

The boy shifts, onto his side then finds his knees under himself, to look up at Peter clearly. 

They observe each other. The boy’s eyes are clear, even if his body is worn out still. 

“Are you going to kill more people?” Scott asks him.

“Only the instigator. Once she is gone, blood ties balanced, my revenge is complete.” Peter says honestly. He will be done with death, can focus on life. 

Scott considers this. He blinks and when he opens them he breathes out.

“Yes, Daddy, I’ll be good for you.” Scott is quiet but Peter hears no lie. 

The boy had been rewarded, and even if he hadn’t, Peter would still take care of what was his. Scott just needs a firm hand, paternal guidance, and then he begs so prettily. 

And Scott is his now, Peter has no doubt. 

Peter hooks a finger under Scott’s chin, pulling him in for a kiss and the boy goes willingly. He places a hand around Scott’s neck, thumb pressing into the valley he finds there at the base of his skull. He drags his fingers up, buries them in the boy’s hair. 

He licks into the boy’s mouth, nips and sucks at his tongue. The boy mewls and Peter smells the lust on him, rising like a tide. 

The boy jerks away then, has the grace to look sheepish. 

“It hurts again.” Scott mumbles. 

Peter’s eyes glow red and he blinks, his normal blue returning. “Good.” He smiles, all teeth. “Come back, now.” He says and the boy looks uncertain but does it anyway and when Peter has pressed their bodies together with an arm and another hand gripping their cocks together, the boy’s apprehensive coatings floats off him. 

Peter works quickly, but thoroughly. Scott is writhing by the time Peter feels his orgasm crest, spike, wash over the boy’s stomach and the boy follows him when Peter tightens his grip at the aftershocks. 

The boy pants, and Peter idly offers a slick hand to the boy, index finger catching on his lower lip. The boy cleans his hand without further prompting, long flat licks of his tongue making Peter’s hand shiny with spit. 

Scott looks down at the mess still there but Peter rolls them over, pushes a clean hand at the boy’s thighs.

The boy jolts when Peter presses a messy thumb into him. Peter keeps the thumb propped in, his hand flat as he wipes the mess down into the boy delicately. 

He works quickly, lest all of it get too tacky to work with, even as the boy squirms under him, gasping. 

Finally, he closes the boy’s thighs, thumb slowly slipping out of him. 

“Mine, my dear boy.” Peter says looking down at the boy.

“Daddy, yes.” Scott holds his gaze, face flushed red. 

“Good. Now, you’re going to clean the mess you made under your desk, with your mouth.” Peter is firm.

Scott blinks, blushes harder, a flare of shame picking up. 

“Get off the bed and crawl.” Peter instructs. Scott breathes harder but he does it, and Peter can see his profile as he settles himself, cock hard again at his stomach, the rosy temptation of the marks on his ass, his swollen mouth. 

He cleans himself with the abandoned wash cloth as he watches the boy. The scent of shame dies down, dissipates as the boy focuses, until it’s gone completely. 

Some of the come has leaked from the boy, trailing down his thighs but most of it is still inside him, Peter can see. The boy will smell of him for weeks. 

It takes a good deal of time, but finally Peter is satisfied with the job. 

“Come up here, now, dear boy. ” Peter says softly and Scott smiles, just a little, his face shiny with spit and come.

The boy nestles up next to him on the bed and Peter strokes his sides softly, not light enough to tickle. Just so Scott knows he’s there. “Sleep now.” Peter murmurs and Scott goes boneless. 

Peter smiles and it’s wolf sharp.


End file.
